


Three's a Unit

by braedens



Series: 29 Different Love Stories [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, FBI Agent Derek Hale, FBI Agent Scott McCall, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, FBI detectives, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Polyamory, Prompt Fic, established scerek, loooots of pining, mchaleinski, stiles literally hates how much he's in love with them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:20:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braedens/pseuds/braedens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 5: we’re fbi agents and they placed us on a project together involving lots of alone time together sHIT + sour skittles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a Unit

“McCall, Stilinski, Hale! Get in here!”

Three heads pop up at the exact same time. Stiles, from where he’s showing Lydia his reports from the last case, proofing it before it gets filed. Scott, from the kitchen, where he’s stopped mid-pour of the coffee going into his cup. And Derek, who’s sitting at his desk, probably being the goody-two-shoes that he is and already finishing up his paperwork from the case he literally _just_ got back from with Scott. 

It’s not rare for the Deputy Director to call in SACs left and right for cases. What _is_ rare, however, to call the three of them together. It’s almost office knowledge that Scott and Derek are partners for _every_ case, seeing as they are the spokespeople for successful monogamous relationships in the workplace. They do everything together, and are rarely every placed on their own, let alone given a third person. 

Especially if said third person has a ridiculously huge crush on the first two. 

* * *

 

And, okay, Stiles _gets_ it. He does. It’s not probable in any way that he’d have a shot with the two of them. As open and accepting he is with polyamory (and has high hopes, evidently), he’s very much positive he’s not even on either of their levels. If anything, Stiles is probably the last person in their department who’d get along with them.   
  
So, yeah, he’s a bit perplexed when they are sitting in the Director’s office together.   
  
“We have a new case,” Deaton says, standing up from his desk to walk around it. “There’s been a trace of abductions with children between the ages of four and nine, all in a nine-mile radius. We think it’s connected to an old case of ours. Similar details, similar victims.”  
  
“Like the case in 2009, right?” Scott perks, and yeah, Stiles forgot that Scott is extremely perfect at collecting and remembering intel. He swears he’s caught him looking through old records ‘just for fun’.   
  
“Right,” Deaton nods. “We’ve found common threads and breadcrumbs, and we’re hoping this will be the time we get them.”  
  
Stiles can’t help it. “So, why do you need all three of us?”

“Well, we believe it’s a group of people committing these abductions, not just one person. Agent Martin and Agent Mahealani have traced suspicious activity within the radius, and have hopefully traced back to a house in Orange County.” Deaton tosses the case folder towards Derek, who’s sitting between him and Scott.   
  
“We’ve rented out a house across the street. You three are doing recon, and hopefully will have enough information. To keep from the community getting suspicious, someone has to leave every so often, imitating errands and going to work. Two people have to be on information detail at all times, as you know.”

Stiles thinks he’s about to internally scream. Because he can’t do whoever long stuck with the world’s biggest lovebirds without wanting to rip his hair out. Or worse, falling for them.   
  
Speaking of which: “How long?” Scott asks, peering over Derek’s shoulder to read the file. Stiles, well, he’s perfectly fine sinking into the sofa with his arms crossed.  
  
He swears he sees the slightest of smirks on Deaton’s face, he _swears_. 

“Two weeks, minimum.”

* * *

 

Okay, so, Stiles really set this out to be the worst thing ever.   
  
But, the house the bureau comped was in a _really_ nice neighborhood. Two stories, real hardwood floors, high ceilings, and fully furnished. And it was right across the street from the house they had to watch.   
  
They had to fake a moving van to come in, as if they were the new neighbors on the block, which, wow, Derek and Scot were milking it. About every family on the street and come to welcome them, and even the two moms who brought their daughter made plans to have them over for dinner.  
  
It was disgusting, honestly, how perfect Scott and Derek were at this. They naturally went into domestic mode, and because Scott was the personality and Derek was the beauty, everyone just migrated towards them.   
  
And no one gave the light of day to Stiles. 

But, he couldn’t complain. He had his own bedroom, cable television, and a stocked fridge and pantry. The only difference from this and his normal life at home was he was mostly upstairs in the den with a headset and two laptops in front of him, mic and camera near the windows facing the street. 

Currently, two days in, Derek was the first to make a leave, deciding he was going to find a gym to work out at, of course. Like his muscles couldn’t bulge any _more_. Stiles was having a great time watching the house when he caught Scott’s movement in the bottom of his screen.

He’s jogged over to the front of their house, where Derek was tossing a duffle bag in the passenger side, dressed to the nines in workout clothes. Stiles couldn’t hear what they were saying, and he was honestly grateful at the moment, but Derek’s smile had grown wide when Scott stepped into his space. 

He watches as Scott slipped his arms around Derek, saying something to him, and caused Derek to run his hands over Scott’s arms. And seriously, Stiles needs to breathe, he hates himself so much. 

And then Scott _leans_ in, and both of their eyes flutter closed, and Stiles groans. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, he shouldn’t be watching this moment that should be just for the two of them. But he can’t help it: they press their lips together, and it looks wholesome. _Sweet_. And as an agent, Stiles doesn’t get many chances as that. Honestly, it’s a rare entity that any of the SACs are in successful relationships, especially two together. the job has a toll on your social life, and relationships.   
  
Stiles groans, and he hates that he has to palm his khakis so that will stop, because now is just really not the time. Actually, it’s never the time, really. When is it ever a time to have a raging crush on two of your co-workers, who _happen to be dating_.   
  
He won’t lie, it’s not like he hasn’t thought about what it would be like. How it would feel to have the three of them, pressed close, kissing them both. He can’t lie that he’s never wondered if Scott’s lips are really as soft as they look, or if Derek’s beard would scratch him in the best way.   
  
Stiles almost trips over cords on his race to the bathroom.

* * *

 

He comes back a few minutes later, Scott is sitting in his chair, looking up from the laptop, and fuck, he has such a cute smile. And Stiles really doesn’t need to deal with his untamable boners these next two weeks. 

“Hey, man,” Stiles nods, taking the chair next to him, hoping he can busy himself in their work.   
  
“Hey, Stiles,” Scott asks, surprisingly. Stiles lifts his head, arching a brow.   
  
“You moved the camera down on the screen, to the front lawn.”  
  
Fuck.  
  
“I did?” Stiles is sure his voice goes an octave higher, like it does when he knows he’s lying. Which, what the fell, he’s an _FBI agent_. He’s _great_ at lying. Fuck this. _Fuck him._

Scott’s smirk doesn’t falter, and he scoots his chair slightly closer. “Were you watching me and Derek?”  
  
He scoffs, making a big deal of the situation. And, now that he thinks about it, probably just made him look more guilty. “What, pfft- no!” Stiles sounds flabbergasted, turning back to the desk. If he makes eye contact, he might as well tell Scott he was just in the bathroom shooting a load because of it. 

It’s silent for a few seconds, and Stiles thinks he can breathe again because he really needed that conversation to end, like, _yesterday_.   
  
“Next time, just join us.”  
  
Stiles takes the equipment with him when he falls out of his chair. 

**Author's Note:**

> this work is part of my month long project called "29 Different Love Stories"
> 
> read more about it on my [tumblr](http://braedens.tumblr.com/)


End file.
